Mr Quinn?
by Azulastalker
Summary: Ian Quinn corners Simmons in the lab in the Bus. What is his plan for her? Ian Quinn/Simmons


Simmons jumped as she heard sets of footsteps come up the ramp of the Bus. The team wasn't supposed to be back for another hour or so. Maybe the mission had gone better than expected . . .

When she looked up and saw Ian Quinn staring at her through the glass separating the lab from the rest of the plane, her face fell and her heart stopped. His goons were behind him, making their way up the ladder to the more important parts of the plane. Simmons slowly slid a folder over her research of GH-325 while keeping her eyes on Quinn. His lips curved into a smirk.

"You're Simmons, right?" He asked, hands in the pockets of his suit pants.

Damn. Damn damn damn. She was completely trapped, he knew her name, and the only way for her to lockdown the lab was all the way across the room. She glanced between the lockdown button and Quinn, trying to judge if she could make it in time. He saw her glances and when she sprinted, he opened the door and sprinted after her. She pressed the button and turned back around to Quinn, realizing her mistake too late. Now she was stuck here with him, her back pressed against the wall. He leaned on one of the tables, panting from his run.

"Now what?" He said with a wide smirk and his eyebrow raised.

Completely cornered, Simmons did the only reasonable thing. She talked.

"What do you want?" She gasped, her hands groping the wall behind her.

"Just a few SHIELD secrets. Didn't expect you to be here though." He stepped closer to her. She cursed mentally that she couldn't back farther away from him.

"I was just . . . " Come on, Jemma, think of something! You're a horrible liar, but you need to think of something! Her eyes scanned the worktables. Ah, yes! The Night-night gun! " . . . working on the paralyzing properties of our Night-night gun. Coulson thought it would be better if I stayed behind and worked on it." Great, now let's hope he buys it.

Quinn had been too busy dragging his eyes down her body to notice her pause. "Still, we can't have you telling them we're here, so I'm going to have to search you for a phone or anything else that could contact them."

Great. He stepped closer to her and her breathing quickened. Her phone was in her right pocket and she knew he'd find it quickly. Unless she could pull some great escape out of her head, she was trapped and alone. He was right in front of her now, his expensive cologne drifted up her nose. She could see the neat creases pressed into his suit and her eyes focused on the few buttons that were undone, just a sprinkling of chest hair was visible.

_Wait, Jemma, what are you doing? Focus!_

Her eyes snapped up to his face and he stared into them as his hand slowly ran down her arm. Her phone was definitely not there and he knew it. His other hand planted itself on her waist and squeezed ever so slightly.

"Why is a pretty young thing like you stuck in a lab all day?" His hand traveled up her arm and to her ponytail. "I'd make sure you got out and got plenty of exercise."

Something told her he wasn't talking about push-ups. He tugged at her hairtie and her hair came free. It rested on her shoulders and he tossed the hairband away.

"Much better. Now about that phone," His voice trailed off and his other hand slowly trailed up from her waist. Her phone was _definitely_ not near her sternum. Her cheeks flushed and her lips parted in surprise as his hand came dangerously close to her breast. His eyes darted to her face at her reaction. She inhaled sharply at his gaze.

Damn this powerful man who thought he could just come here and take what he wanted without thinking about the consequences of how destructive and rough and wild lab sex would be with no one within hearing distance except for his lackeys who could do nothing but listen as her moans echoed throughout the Bus and their boss took the virginity of the pretty (he'd actually called her pretty) lab technician downstairs and ohmygod was she actually turned on right now? Oh yes, she definitely was. The tint to her cheeks was not from fear or embarrassment and the area between her legs suddenly demanded her attention. Fuck.

Quinn must have sensed some change in her, maybe in her eyes, because he crashed his lips onto hers at the same time that his hand groped her breast. Simmons leaned into the kiss (god he was so rough and possessive) and slowly brought her hand to his chest, griping the material of his dress shirt. He tore the lab coat off of her and started tugging at her shirt. His other hand still massaged her breast and her small hands started to work on the buttons of his shirt. She'd never been involved in such an act of passion before, she was starting to get woozy from the lack of air, but her heart sped up in such a way that she never wanted it to end. Quinn nudged her legs apart with his own and she felt his knee lift slowly into the area between her legs. She gasped and, in the process, broke the kiss. His lips found her throat and her gasp turned into a moan. She tangled her fingers in his hair and pushed his head farther down into her cleavage. He didn't object. She felt a bulge poke her hip.

He kissed the tops of her breasts and Simmons was just about to suggest moving to the nearby table, when a "Simmons!" from outside the lab broke her from the lustful haze. Her eyes snapped open to see Phil Coulson standing there, an appalled look on his face and his mouth agape. She could see Fitz's head poking over his shoulder, a similar but also heartbroken expression on his face (Oh Fitz).

Quinn's lips had paused on her breasts and she heard him mutter a "shit" before slowly straightening up to face the SHIELD agents. It was a good thing the lab was on lockdown, or Quinn would be missing a few teeth right about now. His usual shit-eating grin returned to his face when he saw Coulson.

"You just couldn't be just a few minutes late, could you?" He said. Fitz jumped forward, but the closed door of the lab stopped him. Quinn's grin got bigger.

Simmons looked between Ian Quinn, whose shirt was completely unbuttoned by now with his hair tousled and an unconcealable bulge in his pants, and Coulson and Fitz, who both still had their mouths open while the rest of the SHIELD team apprehending Quinn's men upstairs could be heard above them.

_Well, shit._


End file.
